


Mayhem's Blade

by CavannaRose



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Drinking, Gang Violence, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderqueer Character, Graphic Description, Implied/Referenced Torture, Murder, Other, Torture, Violence, flirtation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-01-23 10:47:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21318919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavannaRose/pseuds/CavannaRose
Summary: The Mayhem gang holds sway, and Max is their weapon. There's more to Max than meets the eye, though.





	1. Max

"Now Lee, you should know better than to come here like this, late, with no payment in hand." Silence filled the air, broken only by the whimpering of the man on the floor, blood dripping down his face from a split across his forehead as he crouched around himself, trying to protect his vulnerable parts. The older man leaning against the doorway made a clucking sound with his tongue, running a hand through his unfashionably long hair. "Now see me? I'm a benevolent fella, but Max? Max can't stand a shirker. Gets under their skin, if you know what I mean. Doesn't it Max?"

Closer to the cowering man stood a slender figure, dainty features, pretty even, set in a mask of boredom. Their dark hair was parted to one side, the ends cutting across their forehead and partially over one cold, brown eye. Dressed in a black hoodie under a leather jacket, and a pair of dark jeans, they looked more like an angry high-schooler than the enforcer for a violent gang, even as they grabbed a rag off the counter and cleaned blood off their knuckles. They acknowledged neither the man on the floor, nor the man by the door, simply tilting a hip to lean against the counter.

The long-haired man crossed the room, running a hand across the various implements set out on the counter. Brass knuckles. Blades. A lead pipe. Bolt cutters. All the tools of the enforcer's trade. "You've got some real nice pieces here Max, but I need him alive. Dead men don't pay their bills, late or otherwise, and we've got some folks really counting on seeing what he owes. Understand." He picked up a blade, testing the edge with his thumb and snapping his hand back with a hiss of breath as the skin slit open. Max moved quietly, taking the blade out of the man's hand in a smooth motion, turning their back on him to wipe down the blade. "All right, all right. I know better than to touch your pretty toys."

Moving to the man on the floor, he leaned down to grasp the man's chin, tilting his head up and sniffing the air. "Did you piss yourself, Lee? Here on my floor? Now that's just sad. I'm going to leave you and Max here to get acquainted, and when their done, you're going to go get my money, and remember that you never fuck around when dealing with me and mine again." He let go of the man's face, wiping the blood off on his carefully tailored pants before standing up and going back to Max. Silently he clasped their thin shoulder, and then exited the room.

The door closed behind him, and the man on the floor began sobbing. "Please... I told Auggie I couldn't get anything until next week. Please. Please don't hurt me any more. I can't take it..." With a silent sigh, Max hefted the lead pipe in one hand, feeling the weight of it for a moment before swinging it in a smooth arch. The metal thudded wetly as it connected and the man fell over. Twisting their lips into a frown, Max put down the pipe and picked up a blade. With a few quick flicks of their wrist, the she shirt of the man fell away revealing a pasty chest already mottled with thick purple and red bruises.

Max took their time, making the letters neat and even, all the same size, all the same distance apart. WELSHER. Sitting back on their haunches, Max tugged at a loose flap of skin, frowning as it tore, marring the words. From the pocket of their jacket they produced a slim tube of superglue, lovingly pasting down the edges of the letters until everything was tidy again, other than the coating of blood over the lot. Standing and crossing the room once more, Max returned with a brown bottle, pouring the liquid from inside it over the wounds. The man came awake with a scream as the liquid foamed and bubbled around the words, washing them clean.

Lee tried to stand, but Max kicked his legs out from under him, knocking him back to the ground. Still silent, face still impassive, Max returned with the bolt cutters. Cordially they offered their hand to Lee, who stared at them with fear filled eyes. Max didn't move, didn't speak, simply held out their hand until a trembling Lee put his hand in the soft palm of the enforcer. The long-fingered grip was surprisingly tight as it wrapped around Lee's hand, crushing until the sound of bones grinding accompanied the whimpers of pain. Max lined up the bolt cutters carefully, and slowly closed them over the pinky finger of Lee's hand.

Max focused carefully as the skin split, the blood running over their entwined fingers. Lee tried to pull away, but couldn't. Finally the cutters snapped through the joint and the finger fell away, rolling across the puddles of unidentified liquids on the floor. Dropping Lee's hand, Max bent and retrieved the finger, returning to their counter with the bolt-cutters. Lee scampered to his feet, his breath laboured as he tried to staunch the flow of blood from his hand. Max didn't turn, though, didn't acknowledge him. In a fit of bravery Lee dashed to the door, and no one tried to stop him. One shaking hand fell on the nob, but Max was cleaning the bolt cutters, every once in a while stopping to handle the missing pinky finger.

Lee fled, leaving the building unmolested. Once he was gone Auggie returned, leaning in the doorway where he had started. "Well done Max, you really put the fear of Mayhem into that little turd. I'm willing to bet his money will be here by end of day, no matter how the weasel said he couldn't do it." Max carefully tucked the finger into an airtight box, lovingly sealing it and pulling open a drawer filled with similarly sealed boxes. "You know, Max, one of these days someone is gonna get pissed with your silent act. Until then, it sure scares the piss out of these shitheads."


	2. Lorelei

She'd been at a club the first time she'd seen Gage Warrenson. Now, just walking past one on the street reminded her of him. Of course, she'd have to get over that if she wanted to do right by Mister Saint. As his assistant, she needed to show up in the places he couldn't. At his age, as a married man with grown children, the club scene was so far from the image he would want to maintain. Not her, though. She could easily filter in and out of venues like this, casually discussing Saint's platform with folks who might not even know his name. It was how Gage used to fish for new talent. Maybe his goals hadn't been good, but his methods were effective. With a little tweaking, she could make them work for her and her new employer.

At least, she hoped to hell she could. Otherwise she would look like a fool, out here late at night when she had work the next day. Who ever thought of hitting up a club on a Thursday night was probably crazy, but that didn't seem to stop the crowd here. She hadn't thought a gay bar would be that different from a standard nightclub, but she was so wrong. For one, the crowd was far more diverse than any she had seen. Sizes, colours, ages... they were all there, out on the floor, sweating and smiling and having a grand time. Sometimes at the clubs she felt... well, huge. She wasn't a small woman, and it tended to show amidst the tiny blondes and brunettes that flocked to the bars at night cruising for a good time. Here she blended right in, and not in a bad way. At least, that was what she assumed based on the few appreciative once-overs she had received. 

Lorelei blushed, grateful that it barely showed against her darker skin. It was nice to be appreciated. Since Gage, well, she had avoided attention as best she could, but it wasn't in her nature. Maybe she carried more weight than was currently fashionable, but damn she carried it well. It took all sorts to make the world beautiful. She'd read in a book once, okay, she'd read in a romance novel, that a Christmas Tree farm in all it's uniformity didn't inspire the same awe as a natural forest full of flaws and diversity, and dammit but the author was right. Was it Joanna Wylde or Cherise Sinclair? She shook her head, laughing at herself. She couldn't remember, but whomever it was, they were one smart lady.

Moving towards the bar, she scoped out a likely target for a conversation. She almost approached a tall, masculine featured woman in the cutest dress she'd ever seen, but was beaten to the punch by a a short female in overalls of all things. Stepping back, she watched them flirt awkwardly for a moment, smiling. She smelled romance in the air, and silently wished them well before turning back to scope out her next target. Moments later she'd found a likely target. Lorelei couldn't pick out their gender, but they had an air about them that drew her in. Quiet. Watchful. Their hoodie was clearly well-loved, but their jeans were new. Sitting herself down at the bar near the individual, she offered them a smile.

"Buy you a drink, stranger?" Startled, they turned to her, giving her a long, assessing look, before quirking an eyebrow. "I'm Lorelei, and I promise I don't bite. Just looking for some company and conversation. No pressure."

A smile flickered across the person's face, and there was an edge to it that made Lorelei pause and reconsider for a second. They slid onto the stool beside her, leaning in close, invading her personal space. "How do you know I don't bite, Lorelei?" She shivered, relishing the low, musical quality to their voice. She wouldn't want to pin a gender on them, wouldn't try if you dared her, but they had certainly caught her interest. Perhaps she wasn't cut out for this particular job, because suddenly she was way more invested than a simple talk up the boss's campaign entailed. "Call me Max." The person, Max, waved down the bartender. "I'll take a whiskey. Neat. Something cheap. Bring the lady something fruity," they looked her over. "A Seabreeze, put one of those little umbrellas in it."

Before she could protest Max pulled a wallet from their pocket and slid some money across the bar, then settled their stool in across from Lorelei, trapping her legs between theirs. A mixture of fear and excitement shot straight through her, and when they took her hand in theirs and twined their fingers together, she couldn't stop herself from trembling a little. She hadn't felt like this since Gage, hadn't thought she still could light up like there was a fire in her centre. "I thought I offered to buy you a drink, Max?" She tried for teasing, but there was a breathless quality to her voice that more than betrayed how they had affected her. 

Max gave her a lopsided grin, then ran their eyes over her silky top, making her suddenly wish she had worn a turtleneck, while simultaneously making her long to feel their hands on some of that exposed skin. How did they do that? "You're very sweet, little one. Sweet little women should be taken care of, don't you think?" Max tucked her hand, their fingers still laced with Lorelei's, into their lap, pressing the digits against the rough denim of their jeans. She swallowed, suddenly at a loss for words. What on earth did a body say to something like that? The bartender returned with their drinks, and Max lifted the fruity cocktail, tasting it before handing it to Lorelei. "Sweet." 

"Well..." Lorelei huffed, embarrassment darkening her cheeks as she hid behind her glass, noting that Max had turned the glass so that she would sip from the same place they had. Oh yeah. She was in BIG trouble.


	3. Max

Oh she was sweet, and it brought a smile to Max's face that they weren't used to having there. The way she shyly ducked her head, shifting in her seat. That little frisson of fear that ran up her spine as Max took charge... It was everything they wanted. At least, it was everything they wanted right here. Right now. There was nothing quite as intoxicating as a bold, confident woman rendered helpless by a few dominating moves. Max pressed their linked fingers more firmly into their thigh before picking up their own glass and sipping. The whiskey was harsh, tasting like smoke and sharp edges, and it tightened their focus on the soft hand trapped in their own, the tiny tugs as Lorelei tried to surreptitiously free her hand from Max's grip as she hid behind her drink.

Max waited, letting the tension build between them, waiting to see if the woman would crack and speak first. It was good to know how tough your quarry was from the outset, that determined the pace of the hunt. It wasn't hard to prolong a game, keep it interesting, keep it fun, whether the quarry was weak or not. Max caught the big brown eyes with their own, the corners of their's crinkling in amusement as Lorelei's lashes lowered again. Tough girl, a fighter. Those were Max's favourite. A tough girl took time, took patience, took skill... all things Max rarely needed to exercise while working for their brother. Those jobs were... quick. Dirty. Still satisfying, of course, but not in the same way. Nothing was the same as the hunt.

"So, Lorelei..." Max lifted their joined hands, running their lips over the woman's knuckles, reveling in the softness of her skin, the scent of some kind of lotion, cocoa butter maybe? filling their nostrils. "What brings such a treasure like yourself out into the wilds with us beasts? Work? Pleasure?" On the last word Max lowered their voice, letting a little growl in around the final R. Hand held in theirs, they could feel the hitch of Lorelei's breath, and the smirk they kept fighting flew across their cheek, tugging their lip upwards despite themself. She was hardly an innocent, not if she was here, but they could practically taste her gentleness. It was more intoxicating than all the cheap liquor in the place.

Lorelei laughed, clearly in spite of herself. Max watched the way she tried to fight it, then she shook her head, giving her hand a firmer tug. Unlike the first few, this one was impossible to ignore so with a nod they released her, watching as she carefully wrapped both hands around her drink. Maybe she thought they were safe there. "Does a line like that ever really work?" Despite the fact that she was still aiming for flirty, they could hear the edge underneath it all. Ah, the soft little armful had a temper. Wasn't that a fascinating piece of information? Max tucked it away in their little mental box labelled Lorelei. Once they had all the pieces, they would put her together, and then one by one they would take her apart. Just thinking of it gave them a light buzz of pleasure.

"Does it work? Not half as often as I wish it would, to be perfectly honest." Honesty was such fun. You could tell such lies with the truth on your tongue. "I was sincerely interested in the answer though, the rest well... Some of us cannot resist sounding like fools when we are in the presence of a woman like you. Surely you know that beauty often renders even the quickest minds dull, and I would never call myself the quickest." They laughed, flashing teeth and eyes sparkling, and the low sound was enough to draw Lorelei in. Her own laugh was soft, a little husky, and it shot right to Max's core, making them want her more. "Not many folks come in here and approach someone like me, so either you're on the prowl, which I wholeheartedly hope is the case, or your working the room, in which case I'll be sorely disappointed."

Surprise flickered across Lorelei's face, and Max had to fight to keep the satisfied grin off their own. The little baggage wasn't used to being read, and wasn't that interesting? She had a rather expressive face. Either she was completely unaware, or she was usually in the company of people who didn't look at her. Some kind of background role? Or just undervalued? Shaking her head she set her drink down, and Max took advantage of the opportunity to capture her hands again, both this time. They turned them over, laying very light kisses into each palm, eyes focused on Lorelei's face. She shivered, that lovely skin darkening further as her breath caught in her throat. Definitely undervalued, or at least used to going unnoticed. Fascinating.

"If you must know, I am here on business, technically. My new boss is running for Mayor, so I thought I'd come out and drum up some support for his cause. He's a really good man, and the changes he wants to make will really be beneficial to the neighbourhood." She caught her bottom lip in her teeth, and Max tensed, eyes focused on that flash of white against her dark lipstick. "I wasn't adverse to finding a little fun though, either." She was cute, the way her voice went low and she wouldn't make eye contact. Max figured she'd maybe had two serious relationships, and nothing casual. Not the way the tension moved through her body. She wanted to, though. A good girl gone bad, who were they to resist?

They kissed the tips of Lorelei's fingers, trying to put some warmth into their eyes as they ducked their head to catch her gaze, drawing her back up. "Well then, Lorelei. Perhaps we should go find a little fun, and then afterwards we can talk about this fantastic boss of yours. Best of both worlds. Right?"


End file.
